A few closing words from the Channel Swimmer...

Eventually there comes a time when the pain is inevitable, the cold wet continues, the gloom and murk all surrounding; either the body will tire and die or those on board will pull the plug, fish you out. One enters a place of the never ending, at what must have been around 02:00 on Tuesday, that is just where I found myself. I was in a place, at times confusing, at times so lost I was not able to follow instruction, it was like a nightmare - my thoughts at that time, were that I might get pulled back by yet another changing tide. The fear of that, combined with the terror on the faces of my crew (who knew there was only a window of minutes before the next change in the tide), drove me in, to land, at a place where the rocks that ripped my skin were no barrier, nothing was going to stop me.
The swim started with the sun shining, as I launched myself from the beach at Samphire Hoe, quickly settling into a good rhythm, happy as time passed - the sun my only guide to time as I swam; it became something of an obsession, the sun throughout the hours of daylight - willing it to rise from the East, and as it rose high into the sky, well above my head, I knew I was swimming into the afternoon, and I willed it to drop to the West to sink bellow the horizon...for the swim to come to and end.
Just six hours into the swim my right shoulder packed up, just to lift the arm from the water proved almost too much at times, particularly after feeding. When I'd stopped for a minute or so, it would just seize up, causing me dread at being fed - for the pain that would follow. Having said all that I managed always to re-establish rhythm - I gather from Fiona that my stroke was pretty consistent throughout, even stronger towards the end as I swam into much bigger waves.
Messages of support were written up onto a board by our brilliant communications officer Dan Sullivan - who's most wonderful blog (see below) kept many awake well into the night - the much needed support, made a big difference, some even made me smile! Massive thanks to all those that have been involved.
It wasn't long before the sun went down, that I first sighted France, a fresh way to measure my success? Alas not, despite the never ending words of encouragement from Fiona, Eileen and Dan when I came in for feeds, the look in their eyes and the slight difference in their energy gave the game away; the tide had turned, and I was locked in for another 6 hours, at least! It didn't matter how hard I tried to swim, land just never got any closer!! Land turned to a distant row of twinkling lights.
With the sun gone, the moon shone, a pathway of moonlight spilled out across the sea, the moon became my friend, until it disappeared behind cloud - the darkness set in. In light I had some distraction from all the swimming - billions of plankton wriggling before my eyes, the jelly fish including a Portuguese Man of War (I was lightly stung, four hours or so before the end on the back of my leg). But with night there was nothing, much seemed hopeless, goggles filled with water so often my eyes swelled, my throat and nasal passages swollen, the nose whistling, and the dreaded flashing lights.
Night was filled with the frantic, eeire sound of whistles, flashing red lights, shouting from afar. Night was the vision of luminescence before my eyes, the regular flash of the lighthouse at Cap Gris Nez, calling for me to finish this swim. Distortions of my arms in the water, loss of scale that fat feeling of a fevered mind.
I was aware of missing the first tide, then never getting close to France, then swimming directly against the tide...the lighthouse sometimes closer, then further away...but never close enough - despair in my mind as my body cooled, the worry of hypothermia, the worry of not making it!! Then the tide was slack, I knew it because we were heading towards the beacon of light house. I knew that there was finally an end in sight, or perhaps I was mistaken - the boat was turning round, had I missed the tide? Angry shouts that I 'must follow the boat'!! As they swung round to re-guide me. I kept on straying from the boat, it seemed impossible, the red flashing light calling me back in, the whistles shrill shrieking at me! All the time I drifted, partly as a result of the tired shoulder, the lack of strength in the right arm, causing me to list to the left...partly the lighthouse's waves of light, beckoning my disorientated mind...leading me astray.
There was at last this sense of real urgency, it transpires that I had only ten or so minutes to land before the tide turned! When the boat could go no further I knew that I was close, I could smell land. I left the boat, and amongst the confusion of lights, used to guide me, to land, I chose a bright star to the South and swam till I scraped my stomach against a rock, hands touched another. I tried to stand but fell back, second attempt saw my foot shoot through between two rocks. Tired and shivering and realising that this rocky barrier was not land-proper, I stumbled over it and swam to the shore. I landed on a mud flat, turned to the boat and waved. I talked to myself, telling myself it was all over!!!!! What relief...what relief.

I must say a huge THANK YOU to every visitor to this site, for all those who have helped in every way to make this project the success it has been, I can't thank you enough, you know who you are and you MUST be proud. The fundraising has reached the target - for those who haven't yet donated, or know of anyone who will want to, don't see that as a reason not to use this opportunity to give, and help make a difference!!

So much thanks to my friends on the boat:  Fiona the Boss, never ending support and thought, to get me through, and everything that came before, over the last four years. Eileen for her huge assistance on-board and ceaseless words of encouragement and Dan, tough words-a-pleading, to get me in at the end and all that came before.

I was rather hoping to have the singing 'fat lady' greet me when I beached up in France, but she didn't show (maybe too late, fast asleep?). So it only goes for me to say...

IT'S OVER... THE END!!!










Dan Sullivans fabulous blog of the swim...

Heading home with a champion

The merman is back on board. Eyes like he's done 12 rounds with Tyson. Shivering. No idea how long his time was (18Hrs 42Minutes for those that want to know). He's now downstairs trying to get to grips with what he's done, where he is. And the rest.

Good morning Calais. And thanks for all your support!

03.30 am Angus is a Channel Swimmer! Woo Hoo!

It's in the bag. Not without incident, and yet to get him back on the boat. But he's done it. He's bloody done it.

 

 

 

 

12th July 2011 - 01.45 am

As you can see below, we're nearly there... Less than two miles to go in a straight line. The only question is how far past the point of Cap Gris Nez the tide takes us. Angus is starting to really doubt us when we tell him that he is making good progress. Spirits pretty good though given his situation.

 

 

 

23.50 pm

We've finally exited the french shipping lane and now in inland french waters. Now we're bobbing and rolling through choppier water. Everything that isn't tied down is sliding from side to side and there's guacamole everywhere.

Most of the time the only sight we have of the merman Angus is a flashing green bonce and a glowing green bottom -- lights so we can track him rather than some surreal side effect of over exposure to sea water. It's getting harder to keep him alongside the boat as he gets more and more disorientated and veers off.

Over 100 texts received -- we should have asked Orange to match our communications bill in charity donations!

Onwards and, well, sideways a bit, and rolling from side to side a bit. But onwards anyway.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back in earlier halcyon times:      

22.00 pm

We continue our long parabola back eastwards. At each feed stop we lose precious ground again but we have to keep the energy high with more jelly babies, energy drink, tea and tinned fruit. You can see the frustration on Angus face as he can't work out why we don't seem to be getting any closer despite all his heroic efforts. All we can say is 'keep going', 'you're looking good'. And he is. Keeping going and looking good. His stroke is still long and he's looking powerful. Not a hint yet of wanting to quit, just wanting to get it over with.

Having hoped to finish in the light of evening, we're now thinking about finishing in the light of dawn. But the question is, how many of you will be with us through the night? Getting so many texts. Can't possibly relay them all to Angus as it would take him an hour or more to read them all. But thanks for all the great positive vibes which are helping I'm sure.

Oh yes, and if you forgot, here's where you can do the do: http://www.bmycharity.com/channelangus.
 

 

20.00 pm

Looks like we're in for the long haul folks. The tide turned fast and hard and we're being taken back up the french shipping lane. We've made 300m of progress in the last half an hour. Hoping that we can keep on making headway so when the tide turns again - and the sea dogs think that'll be around midnight - we've a chance of taking it in towards the eastern side of Cap Gris Nez.

 

 

 

Captain Ray, master of the instruments:  

18.13 pm

Progress is slow. Angus is looking a bit haggard now. Barely a smile - the feeds are just a matter of getting some hot liquid down and ploughing on. The one bit of excitement, to break the monotonous big blue, was a 2 to 3 metre bough wave from one of the passing cargo ships. Angus hardly noticed! 

However, looking on the bright side: The seas are still calm. The sun's pretty hazy but nothing threatening on the horizon. The tide is starting to slacken a bit. And Angus got anothe £400 of donations since my last post.

I hope Angus has got plenty more to give. Have you? Are you listening, Bill Gates? Come on you Rothschilds (Rothschildren?). Will, Kate, Harry -- cough up!

 

16.30 pm

He's a relentless whale-man. Even above the noise of the diesel motor, sitting here inside the cabin at 'mission control', I can hear the splish, splosh, splish, splosh of his stroke through the window. Metronomic at around 56 strokes per minute. A bit of shoulder pain now, so some pain killers and anti-inflamatories coming.

We're now heading pretty much parallel to the French coast (as I hope you can see from the Spot tracker). Hopefully the tide will turn soon and we can start making good straight line speed again.

Plenty more messages, though fewer laughs now. I know what would get him going though, a wacking great donation to the Lawrence Well charity appeal. Come on, big spenders. Go to http://www.bmycharity.com/channelangus. Please.

 

Angus in the big blue - no land in sight:

15.30 pm

Loads of messages of support coming in. Jimmy Law got a chuckle with 'watch the floaters' as did Jamie from Brighton Swimming Club with the thought if him following the swim sitting in a cold bath for added empathy.

More than half way in straight line distance done now but the current is getting stronger as we approach France and we seem to be on a trajectory for Brittany at the moment. Out of sight of England and a faint smudge of brown on the horizon is the french coast. Angus still seeming positive but by now will have no idea how long he's been swimming for, how far he's got, and how far there is to go. Nor do we for that matter -- it all depends on how the tides turn and whether he's made enough progress by the time the tide starts going out again to hit Cap Gris Nez.
 

13.53 pm

Water temperature's down to 15.2 degrees and Angus is startling to feel the cold now. Nothing serious (yet) but he's looking a bit grumpier and complaining that his drinks aren't hot enough. Second mate Bob is down below decks boiling more hot water for the next feed. Fiona warned us that swimmers are likely to hit the wall (figuratively, that is) sometime between 4 and 7 hours in. We're over 5 hours in now.

I can't imagine what he's actually thinking about down there. Hope they're good thoughts.

Almost out of the English shipping lane now. The Rotterdam Express is cutting across our course in front of us, fully laden, doing 22 knots. Should pass before we get there though.

12.56 pm

Just had our first run in with a cargo ship. Had to call to Dover to ask 'High Priority' to alter its course. A channel swimmer is higher priority!

Got a few problems with swimmer to boat positioning. Can't seem to keep Angus to port side as he keeps on listing to starboard (look at me with my marine lingo!) Still plodding on though.

Remember -- keep on giving people: http://www.bmycharity.com/channelangus.

 

12.12 pm

Congrats to Monty for getting the first laugh out of Angus during the crossing with "Go crazy SEA horse!". It was a bit of a forced laugh but better than a full belly laugh resulting in a sea water choking moment!

More than three hours down and 6 nautical miles done. Soon about to enter the English shipping lane and we  can see the container ships ahead of us. Fiona has upped the concentration of his feed as he's starting to over rotate, meaning he's getting a bit tired and possibly low on energy. Feeding is critical to success. Angus remains positive but things could start getting interesting soon...


 

11.15am

We've got a bit of a sweep stake going on aboard the boat for the final finishing time. The estimates vary wildly from around 11 hours to around 17 hours. The estimators vary wildly from the complete blaggers (me and the film crew) to the experts (the official Peter, Captain Ray, Fiona and Eileen). The widest variance is between the so-called experts though so it all seems like guess work to me. I'm sticking with my 15 hours! Anything could happen between now and then though.

Angus has now done 4.7 nautical miles and actually it seems like he's going in a pretty straight line. You should be able to see that from the Spot tracker above. (Despite the marvels of modern technology I can't get that to work over my mobile internet connection in the middle of the channel so I can't check.) The pace seems ok but anything could happen over the next few hours...

Remember, you can text your messages of support to Angus' mobile and I'll write them up on the board for him to see. The first one to get a genuine laugh from Angus will win a personal mention on the blog...

Don't forget, you can donate at http://www.bmycharity.com/channelangus.

10.22am

It's going swimmingly so far. All plain sailing. Angus has now covered about three miles in a curving arc as he gets carried Holland-wards by the tide drawing out. So the straight line distance is much less than that. He's popped his head up twice to take a feed - at 1 hour and 1.5 hours. Not much said, no drama, just a determined look on his face beneath his big black goggles.

 

11th July 2011, 8.42am - Samphire Hoe, Dover

And he's off!

Plastered in zinc cream and wool grease to protect from the sun and the salt (and looking like an albino gorilla) he stands on Samphire Hoe beach looking out to sea. The boat gives a the signal and he walks into the water and begins The Swim.

Conditions couldn't be better. Not a cloud in the sky and light winds. Water temperature nearly 16 degrees. Sure there will be plenty of trials and tribulations to come though...

10th July 2011. Brighton -10th July 2011. Brighton -

Tomorrows swim now confirmed, by phone this morning from the Pilot Ray!

" My support - Fiona, Eileen and I, will leave Brighton for Dover at 04:00 tomorrow, RV with Dan - who'll be taking over this page and giving you regular updates throughout the swim!  We'll meet up with Ray, get some paperwork done with UK Coast Guard and then head to load up his boat!!
All the boxes of kit are full and packed, all my jobs done, just rest today and a very early night...with ear plugs, in anticipation of my big day tomorrow.
As I write I am very excited, a little nervous, but also calm, I've been here before, just this time all's well and I feel good, and strong.
Finally the day is almost upon us, my chance to finish this; that decision, one taken so lightly at the time, so little understood of what I was entering into when I announced that I would 'train to swim the Channel'...four...years...ago!!

I'll be back after a few days recovery from the swim. Many thanks to everyone who's paid interest in this site, keep watching, the best bit's still to come...no sleeping till I finish!!!!! Leaving you in the most capable hands of my great friend Dan Sullivan.